beware the scrapper
September 13, 2005, 2:28 pm

There exists in each of us, even people who can't embrace it fully, a level of geekdom that consistently enjoys geek activities. Within every person you meet, there is some element of geekiness so severe that it carries a lightsaber, dresses like Frodo, and quotes _Donnie Darko_ to the recesses of our minds. To this end, I am confident in what I do for my hobbies; I make fun of my D&D-playing friends; I make fun of my boyfriend for downloading _Star Wars_ fanfiction, but I'm aware they have an equal if not somewhat more violent comeback with which to taunt me:

My name is Jessica, and I am a scrapaholic.

Yes, it's true; I am psycho for scrapbooking. I go away to scrapbook with 300 other mostly chunky women who are so delighted to be away from their kids and husbands for the weekend that they eat Jell-o Shooters like M&Ms and also eat M&Ms like M&Ms.

If you have attended a JournalCon or Weetacon for the past two years, chances are you're featured prominently on my pages. Chances are there are ribbons, swirly-thingys, spiral clips, and plastic bubble stickers somewhere over your head (or a collage, if you're Chauffi, and there's statuary around).

Anyway, so the Scrapper's Dream Vacation I attended? BLISS. Basically, it's three days of no responsibilities, no laundry, NOTHING except pajamas, food, and scrapbooking. GORGEOUS. I'm so in love with the whole concept, I can't even contain my joy. Die cuts. Cutting systems. Tags. Brads. Eyelets. Oh dear Lord, the list goes on.

I squealed...out loud...because I found paper that matched Jill's collar perfectly for my doggie page; I actually pointed this fact out to people as they passed by. "And look!" I'd say dramatically, "The paper matches the dog's collar!!!"

The nice thing was, these women? They CARED about it. They told me I was good; they told me I belonged with them despite my lack of children and pages denoting "Connor's First Birthday" and "Elise's First Doctor's Visit". I dare say they're all a little jealous of my pages depicting Bachelorette Parties and people puking off balconies. (Okay, I don't have a puke picture, but I do have a page of Thumper's sliced open/stitched up finger!)

"Honey," said Thumper, upon my return, "I know we make fun of your hobby all the time, but honestly, looking at those books...they're awesome. You're awesome. I'm glad you do that stuff."

So am I. Geek!